


spring gaywakening

by reylofics



Series: simon & jeremy [1]
Category: Rise NBC
Genre: Boys Kissing, Coming of Age, Declarations Of Love, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 05:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14687820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reylofics/pseuds/reylofics
Summary: simon fights his feelings for jeremy, until he doesn’t.





	spring gaywakening

**Author's Note:**

> * tw for religion, homophobia and internalized homophobia.  
> *please let me know if any other tw’s are needed!
> 
> other than that, this is just a really bad, stereotypically cliché love story that ends with the cheesiest lines in history. enjoy!

After a few exchanges of chaste hugs and applause from the audience, Simon and his family began their silent walk to their car outside. They joined Simon’s father, who had impatiently been waiting for the show to end. Simon’s father walked briskly in front of Simon and his mother, dragging his sister along with him. Confused at her husband’s erratic behavior towards their son, Simon’s mom weakly smiled at Simon, handing him the rose that she had bought for him earlier in the day as a symbol of her appreciation for his outstanding work in the play. With much gratitude, Simon silently accepted the rose in his trembling hands. 

The rose felt delicate and soft in his embrace, feeling innocent enough to the point where it felt like a burden disguised as a blessing—like it was bursting at the seams with a venomous poison that was just waiting to tear apart Simon from the inside out. Before he knew it, Simon’s hands were beginning to shake uncontrollably, throwing the floral gift in his palms onto the concrete ground. The rose shattered, its petals scattering all around the floor. In the blink of an eye, Simon’s remaining family stopped to see the commotion behind them.

What they saw was Simon’s heart breaking with the shattering of the flower, as he sank to his knees, aimlessly trying to put back together the pieces of the red attraction. It was useless, but even so, Simon was not the type of boy to leave a broken thing helplessly lying on the floor, where it was bound to get even more torn apart. Frantically, the nervous actor began to scoop the disfigured petals into his left palm with a heavy breath.

At this very moment, Simon’s co-star came walking out of the backdoor that lead to the stage, his mom happily trailing alongside him. She was beaming proudly at her son, something that Simon jealously admired. The floppy-haired boy gave his mom a quick kiss on the cheek, suddenly noticing sweet Simon and his rusty rose on the gravelly ground.

“I’ll meet you at the car, Ma,” he offered to his mother, who mumbled something incoherent but jokingly in return. Nonetheless, she walked over to their car with keys in hand, unlocking the car doors as she slowly got in and began to patiently tap her hands on the steering wheel. While this happened, her son jogged over to casually help Simon with his peculiar array of broken flower pieces. He bent down to Simon’s level, sharing a soft, cautious smile with the other boy while he helped gather the remaining petals and scoop them into Simon’s hands. When he dumped his pile of the red flower into Simon’s pale palms, his fingertips lightly grazed the edge of the other boy’s fingertips as he lifted his fingers up and to his sides. His touch sent a shock of blooming electricity into Simon’s livid heart.

“T-th-thanks, Jeremy,” Simon said sheepishly. He nervously tucked a piece of his already short, brown hair behind his ear.

Simon’s father cleared his throat angrily, clearly attempting to interrupt the meaningful moment between the two boys. 

“Let’s go,” he nodded to Simon harshly, resuming his route to the car. His voice was even and collected but, knowing his father, he was most likely a flurry of emotions, anger being the one to most seemingly be bubbling up inside him. Simon knew that voice all too well. 

Ashamed of his father’s attitude, Simon turned to look at Jeremy with a look of apology written all over his face. Admittedly, this felt just like the kissing scene between the boys in the play. At this moment in time though, neither boy was quite ready to face the reality of the situation; Simon couldn’t give in to the chemistry between the two for obvious reasons that were currently walking to the car right now and Jeremy wasn’t sure he was ready admit he was in love with someone who hadn’t yet disclosed his interest in boys to even himself.

“Really,” Simon grimaced, “thanks. I mean it.” The boys slowly got up from the ground, turning their backs on each other to go their separate ways.

From the front of the pack, Simon’s father leaned back and howled in a stable voice, “And leave the rose! It’s already broken—no use in trying to fix it.”

Simon, although devastated for reasons that he didn’t want to admit to himself, was compliant with his father’s request. He let the petals fall from his grasp, suddenly free to be wrecked by anyone who came across them lying on the cold ground. With them gone from his body, Simon felt a heavy weight on his chest like a burden had suddenly crushed down upon him. Coolly, he counted to ten in his head, evening his rapid breaths out as he sped up his walking to join his family. Daringly, Simon craned his head behind him to see his fellow actor scrambling into his mother’s car, saying something that Simon couldn’t decipher. After all, it wasn’t like Simon had experience with reading boys and their lips.

However, Simon could tell that Jeremy was forlorn by the way he slumped in his car seat with his head leaning down. It wasn’t like Simon could naturally tell when something was wrong with the other boy but he sure knew the difference between Jeremy’s neutral expressions and sad expressions. After all the time that they had spent together as co-stars during the play, he’d been forced to learn a lot about the other boy. Plus, the way that Jeremy’s mother ruffled his hair seemed to be an act of consolation as they drove out of the parking lot and what was the need for consolation from one’s mother if you weren’t feeling down in the dumps?

“Simon, get in the car. Now.”

The pale boy turned back around to the car behind him. He had been so lost in thought that he seemed to have forgotten how long he had been standing in the middle of the lot. In a wispy daze, Simon shuffled over to the car. His brown eyes were glassy in the reflection of the moonlight.

“Ha-have you been drinkin’?” his sister curiously asked. She giggled at the mere thought of her devoted Catholic brother drinking alcohol, shifting over in her cushiony seat to let Simon sit closer next to her small body.

“No, he has not!” exclaimed Simon’s mom adamantly, although she thankfully seemed more appalled at the accusation rather than angry.

Simon said nothing. He grabbed the grey seatbelt next to him and wordlessly pulled it over his shoulder, clicking it in to the seatbelt holster. His sister leaned against him while she closed her eyes in an attempt to rest, immune to the hostile environment around her. She curled up against him, her tiny body barely making a dent in his shoulder. 

In the midst of this, the car keys were inserted and the engine of the older car rumbled excitingly. It was a bit loud, but nothing that Simon wasn’t used to. Additionally, the inside and outside of the car were immaculate, leaving no room for judgement from any outside spectators. From the crystal clean windows to the tan carpet, everything was kept in pristine conditions, making it seem like the car was being rented from a car rental station instead of being owned by Simon’s family for (now) close to five years. Still, even with the clean pine-fresh smell of the car, Simon couldn’t wait to get home, where he could use almost anything as an excuse to flee from his father’s stilted attitude that was sure to burst with anger at any moment.

The trees outside passed in a blur of motion while the car rolled forward onto the road. In the darkness of the heavenly night, the light dimmed and faded out of the spotlight, the night’s curtain beginning to close. Simon tried counting the stars as a tactic to drown out the noise of the rumbling engine (with the absence of music) but to no avail, just as with the fallen rose.

Simon’s mother was the first to break the silence in the car apart from the murmuringly loud engine. “On my way to the grocery store tomorrow, I think I’ll get another rose for you, Simon.” 

She turned around, smiling when she saw the corners of Simon’s mouth tilt upwards into a genuine smile. Beside her, her husband gripped the steering wheel tightly as they got off the freeway, a few blocks closer to their house. “That won’t be necessary,” gritted Simon’s father. “We wouldn’t want him to break yet another flower, now would we?”

Simon’s mother tried to interject, helplessly. “Ah,” stopped Simon’s father, raising one of his fingers from the wheel to silence her, to the humiliation of both her and her son. “You made the decision of letting our son participate in this...expressive play, surely you wouldn’t hinder me from making a decision as small as this one? We don’t need to waste more money on a petty flower and that’s my final answer. You may have swayed my answer in regards to Simon’s position in the school play but you won’t sway my decision on this one.”

Throughout this, his tone remained even, until his voice wavered slightly during his last sentence to his wife. Sighing, his wife relaxed back into her seat, too exhausted to fight back over something as minor as a flower; though, in the back of her mind, she knew it was about more than the flower. Certainly, she had her reservations about Simon and the other boy’s relationship being more than just strictly professional but she didn’t want to think that her suspicions were true. And even if she was right, she didn’t think something as small as a rose was going to bring out the homosexual tendencies in her son. Unlike her husband with his unwavering faith in the Old Testament, Simon’s mother was more lenient when it came to things that were supposedly “against” their religion; though she didn’t necessarily support those who were considered to be sinners in the Catholic religion, she also did not view them as merely devils from Hell like her husband so often proclaimed them as. She wasn’t the type to start marching in Gay Pride parades but she did, quietly and humbly, respect their rights as human beings.

Suddenly, the car pulled into the driveway headfirst, dragging Simon and his mother out of their distant thoughts. The engine was now quiet, nothing left to fill the empty silence of the car as everyone piled out. They all looked like strangers that had decided to carpool together, rather than one tight-knit unit. Wordlessly, everyone walked faster than usual , refusing to talk to one another. Even Simon’s sister, who was usually chatty, was still groggy and not talkative from her nap in the car. But, Simon’s father walked at a pace that was slightly faster than everybody else’s, like he was desperate to be the first inside. His wife followed swiftly behind him, then Simon and his sister, closing the door loudly behind him. 

“Oops,” giggled Simon’s sister, rushing upstairs to get ready for bed. 

Simon started to follow her, noticing that his parents were going into separate rooms. Thinking nothing of it, he continued his walk upstairs into his room. He paused by the bathroom, jokingly reminding his sister to go to sleep at a reasonable time. She laughed it off with him, swishing the toothpaste around in her mouth. When she was done, Simon quickly went over his night routine: washing his hair, brushing his teeth, cleaning his face, and taking his contacts off. Tired, he changed into his pajamas, which was a pair of black sweats and nothing else. Had his parents known that he wasn’t wearing shirts to bed, they probably would’ve yelled at him, but now that he was older, they had relented and stopped coming to his room to wake him up in the morning. Therefore, he always put a nice shirt on in the morning, before anyone could see him shirtless. Of course, Simon’s parents had never seen him go to sleep shirtless so he wasn’t positive that they would yell at him, but it was a safe bet that they wouldn’t be too happy with his sleeping in the partial nude. Beside his parent’s attitudes, though, Simon felt comfier sleeping in nothing but sweats.

Yawning, Simon turned onto his side with his blanket thrown carelessly over his legs, drifting off into sleep. His eyes fluttered for a couple of minutes before finally resting, setting into a deep slumber. The light outside seemed to get lighter and lighter, penetrating Simon’s bedroom window to illuminate his skin. Still, before the sun could fully rise, Simon was awoken by his sister sobbing in the doorway of his room. She was sobbing quietly, but Simon had always had a knack for knowing when she was crying, after having heard her stifled cries for so long.

Although he was tired, Simon tumbled out of bed to comfort his sister. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand while soothing her back with the other.

In between sobs, she quietly answered. “M-mo-m-mom an’ dad,” her voice breathily quaked.

Then Simon heard them. He had no idea how he had slept through it all, but he had. Down below, he could hear his parents “talking” in very loud voices. Sadly, he guided his sister back to her room to listen to music on her headphones, while Simon sat on the stairs, trying to decipher what the fight was about. However, he could only get a few phrases out of them, when they rose their voices. Aiming for a better shot at their conversation, Simon scooted down to the bottom of the stairs. Here, he had a perfect view of them, but knowing his house, he was completely hidden from their line of sight.

“I just, I can’t believe you would let our son participate in a such a SINFUL play.” Disgust was leaking from Simon’s father’s voice.

“I—,” started his wife.

“I can’t believe I let you do this! The written version of the play was already atrocious, but seeing it played out on stage? It’s atrocious. It really is. I mean, really. What did you expect by letting our son stay at a PUBLIC school? All that play has taught our son is that they view sin as normalcy: two boys kissing, teen pregnancy, abortion— they all go against everything we preach, and you know it.”

“Have you ever thought that what we ‘preach’ is wrong? The God that I know says that we shall not hate thy neighbor, no matter how ‘atrocious’ they are.”

Her husband scoffed. “Are you saying that you suddenly support homosexuality and killing children? After everything we’ve taught to OUR children, you suddenly want to repent and take it all back?”

Simon’s mother’s response was quiet but firm. He craned his head around to hear her response, hoping that she wouldn’t see him peering around the corner.

“If...if one of our children was gay or had intercourse behind our backs, would you love them any less?”

Simon’s father did not respond, at first.

“Answer me,” goaded his wife. “Would you still describe them as horribly ‘atrocious’?”

The man standing across from her struggled with his answer to her question. “Homosexuality and premarital intercourse is a sin, regardless of whether it comes from the doing of our children or not.” His voice wavered significantly, like he was trying to convince himself instead of his wife of his beliefs.

Disappointed, Patricia shook her head in disbelief. On the stairs nearby, Simon was struck with his father’s open disregard to acknowledging gay people as anything other than a living sin. Unwillingly, tears protruded from his eyes. Like a walking statue, Simon got out loudly and ran to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. His breathing frequently became quicker as he attempted to slow down his breathing, counting to ten repeatedly in his head. Crying, he crumbled down to the ground, pushing the weight of his body on his bedroom door. He balled his hands into his fists by sides, trying to still his erratic movements at the crack of dawn. The painted swirl of colors outside brought Simon’s mind at ease, each color bringing Simon more and more into focus with himself and the realization of his father’s true attitude and beliefs. Then he heard the stairs creaking gently below his room, every step booming louder and louder in his ears while the person behind the steps tip-toed to the edge of Simon’s room. He heard a gentle knock at the edge of his white door and, right away, Simon knew which parent it was at his door. Still, he neglected to verbally answer. Again, the knock came, more persistent than the first time.

“Leave me alone!” yelled the brown-eyed boy. As quietly as he could, Simon scooted away from the door, moving to his closet.

His bedroom door suddenly flung open, revealing his mom to be standing in the doorway. She eyed Simon’s partially nude state, not saying anything about his current attire, while his harsh eyes grilled into hers, almost daring her to say something about his lack of a top. 

“I thought,” Simon grumbled, “I told you to leave me alone.” He ruffled through his coat hangers, grabbing his uniform. Hoping she would get the hint and exit, he began to change into his uniform.

Unmoved by her son’s act that seemed to resemble a peaceful protest, Simon’s mother stayed in the room. “What you heard, Simon, it was out of context. I mean, you shouldn’t have been down there anyways, but what you heard was very out of context.” Her voice lacked any genuine truthfulness to it, though, and it was clear that she was just trying to achingly defend her homophobic husband to her (closeted) son.

Simon threw on his sweater over his head, scoffing. “Really? Just a few seconds ago, I heard him attacking the personal choices of women and acting like people choose to be gay! He acted like we, I mean, THEY want to embrace this lifestyle that religious people call a sin!” Luckily, Simon was quick to cover up his mistake as claiming himself to be one of “them”, so that his mother was unaware of the slip up in his choice of words. She said nothing of it, clearly still trying to figure out a way to defend Simon’s father and put him back into the loving light that Simon had always seen him in.

But it was too late. Furious, Simon grabbed his laptop (along with his other electronic devices/chargers) and stuffed it all down the throat of his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he brushed past his stunned mother.

“Honey, I know you’re upset, but it’s not even five in the morning!” she called out after him. She heard nothing in return, except the slam of the heavy entrance door.

“What was that?” yelled a deep voice from downstairs, coming from a man who was too lazy to get up and see the commotion.

Simon’s mother cascaded down the stairs, passing by her daughter’s room, who was completely oblivious to the argument that had happened just a room down the hall. She could only register the faint sound of people talking in the background, but it had never occurred to her to check out the argument that was currently going on downstairs.

“Our son just left the house because of YOU,” hissed Simon’s mom.

“Because of me? Don’t go pinning this all on me, again,” retorted back the other person in the room. “It’s not my fault you didn’t go after him.”

“Like I could’ve stopped him? He’s a teenage boy with the ambition to leave our house because of your attitudes—I don’t think there’s any way that even you could’ve stopped him.”

“My attitudes? It’s not like my attitudes directly reflect upon our children! Neither of our children are into the same gender or having premarital sex, so what’s the problem?”

The atmosphere in the room seemed to crumble and break down the walls inside it.

“Our son is gay.”

Robert gaped his mouth open in a shock of anger and countless other negative emotions. “Our son is...no. He’s not gay. Did he tell you this?”

“No,” admitted the woman standing across him, “—call it mother’s intuition or whatever you want, but our son is gay. Whether you’d like to admit it or not, our son likes boys. If that doesn’t offer the best possible explanation as to why he wanted to leave after hearing your opinion on homosexuals, then I don’t know what else to say. He’s not dating anyone and I would like to believe that our son is not aimlessly sleeping around with people, so the only explanation I can provide for his disappearance is that he’s gay.”

Try as she might to convince her husband that their own son wasn’t a sin, Robert had his beliefs set in stone and didn’t seem like he would deviate from them anytime soon. “If our son is gay, then he’s not welcome in this house until he converts from his chosen lifestyle.”

“It’s a not a lifestyle,” whispered Patricia fiercely, refusing to back down.

Robert hissed back at her, “You and I both know that I was once wrongly involved with that ‘lifestyle’. I was able to convert and so can Simon.”

Simon’s mother shook her head horrendously. She barely recognized the man in front of her. “If he’s not welcome, then I don’t feel comfortable with myself or our daughter living here,” she said, struggling to stay calm in the face of the man she didn’t know.

Calmly, she went upstairs and began to pack her and their daughter’s belongings, still reeling from her husband’s decision. For now, she had no idea where she was going to stay. All she knew was that she couldn’t stay there, at the place she had once called home.

Meanwhile, Simon had reached the high school, which was about twenty or so minutes from his house. Class didn’t start until 8:00AM, but he figured that he could kill three hours by walking around the school, getting a head start on future homework, and chatting with some friends who would probably arrive thirty minutes before the bell. Patiently, he found a seat on the ledge by the cafeteria tables, drumming his fingers on the stone hedge beneath his legs. He hummed, trying to get his mind off of his father’s ugly words, which kept twisting themselves and drilling themselves into the very core of his mind. As the words began to frequently pass through his mind, his fingers drummed restlessly, his feet joining along with the rhythm of his hands.

“Hey, Simon?” Snapped out of his thoughts, Simon turned to the source of the voice. As fate would turn out to be, the source of the voice was indeed a mess of a boy who had played Simon’s love interest in the weeks preceding the day before.

“Hi, Jeremy,” breathed out Simon with a sigh of relief. He and Jeremy had only been cordial the past weeks; although they were playing love interests, they weren’t necessarily friends. Though, Simon reflected, it wouldn’t be so bad to treat Jeremy as a friend, especially considering the fact that they had just recently kissed.

The other boy chuckled, throwing his backpack off of his arms to join Simon on the ledge. “Sorry, were you expecting someone else?” He imitated Simon’s sigh dramatically, heaving his shoulders up and down to accentuate the action. For Jeremy, it was easy to lighten the conversation up and talk to Simon like they had been best friends for years. After all, Simon had grown to drop the hostile attitude that he seemed to have held towards Jeremy.

“No,” laughed Simon, glad to have someone to distract him from his intrusive thoughts, “it wasn’t a bad sigh. Promise. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” smiled the younger boy cheekily. He shifted a bit closer to Simon, who pretended that his heart hadn’t just skipped several beats.

“Not to be rude—I’m glad you’re here, really—but why are you here, this early in the morning?” Simon questioned.

Jeremy laughed. “It’s a totally reasonable question. This is going to sound dumb, but I woke early and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I kind of just decided to come here.” He shrugged, acting like it was an everyday occurrence for him.

Simon was incredulous. “And your mom lets you do that?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m trying to be rebellious or anything, you know. So, it’s not really a big deal.”

The older boy nodded earnestly, suddenly remembering the previous night. “Hey, Jeremy. This is going to sound weird and you don’t have to answer, but is there a reason you were looking sad when you got into your car last night?” Simon crushed his head into the heels of his hands, reprimanding himself for asking such a personal question. “Sorry, that was probably really personal. You don’t have to answer that!”

The younger boy flushed bright red. “No, it’s okay,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise that it won’t change anything between us.” He lifted his head up to meet Simon’s solemn gaze, who nodded in return.

“Okay.” Jeremy let out a bit breath of air. “I know we’re just actors who are playing two boys who are madly in love, but I think, somewhere along the way, I got the acting and my real emotions mixed up. What I’m saying is, I like you as more than just scene partners. I understand if you don’t feel the same way,” Jeremy’s voice cracked, “but that’s how I feel.”

Temporarily disregarding the bold confession, Simon was puzzled. “Why would that make you sad?”

“It’s pretty clear that something happened between us when we kissed onstage which, I know, is super cliché. It’s also pretty clear that your father doesn’t approve of two boys TOGETHER, after seeing us touch hands. I was disappointed because, you know, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. And I know you said you’re not gay after I kissed you, but if you think gay people are ‘wrong’...,” he trailed off. Finishing his rant, he turned away from the older boy, though it was unclear why; maybe it was due to shame, embarrassment, sorrow, or a mix of everything in between,

“Jeremy,” said Simon in a low voice, grasping the younger boy’s hand softly, “I’m—.” Hesitating, the older boy finally settled on saying, “I support you.” He whispered it like a secret, even though nobody was around to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Oh,” concluded Jeremy, slightly disappointed but holding Simon’s hand just as tightly. The air was serious and filled with stoic, shocked emotions.

Then, just as quickly as the air had been filled with seriousness, the two boys resumed back to their state of laughter, holding their hands together until they grew sweaty with the impending harsh sunlight upon them. Neither boy said anything about their linked hands, afraid to ruin the moment shared so secretly between them. At exactly 7:30AM, just as Simon had predicted, their friends started flooding in to the school, waiting for doors to open. A couple of them noticed Simon and Jeremy’s conjoined hands at first, but no one said anything about it, although it was more out of respect for their privacy rather than wanting to avoid the subject entirely. When the school bell rang, after hours of laughing together, the two boys went to their separate classes, their hands drifting away from each other. Though they had not talked about either of their early owl confessions, it was clear that there were some harbored feelings for each other that had yet to be hashed out and discussed. For example, Jeremy was still unsure on whether or not their conjoined hands were an act of friendship or a tender act of romance. During the classes leading up to their lunch, Jeremy and Simon both pondered the status of their friendship, if they could even call it that.

In each of his classes, Simon drilled his fingertips into the wooden table insistently, much to the annoyance of his teachers. Many of his teachers gave him reprimanding looks, to which the brown-haired boy chose to either completely ignore or pay no attention to. All he could pay attention to was the sound that his fingers made while rapping against his desk, leading up to lunch. When the lunch bell finally rang, Simon sprang up from his desk eagerly, now beginning his search for his friends. He met up with all of his friends for lunch, most from the play, Jeremy included. Simon’s fingers were still insistently tapping on his sides.

“Hey,” greeted Simon to his friends, slightly anxious for the school day to end. 

He was quick to move through the daunting lunch, making small conversation with everyone so that he didn’t seem too out of it. In the lunch line, he pretended to take a quick bathroom break so that, when he joined the lunch line again, he wouldn’t have to awkwardly make conversation with his friends for what seemed to take forever. For some reason, he felt unusual and very much unlike his usual self. When he joined his entire group of friends, eating lunch at the picnic tables outside, he was quiet, solitarily biting into his peanut butter sandwich. Lillette sat by him on the right, too engaged with Robbie to notice; he didn’t blame her, since she wanted to spend as much time as she could with her new boyfriend before moving with her mother across the country. To be honest, he completely understood why she would want to make every minute with Robbie count, since she had known him for less time than she had known Simon. Plus, it wasn’t like Simon didn’t have anyone else to talk to. At the moment though, he didn’t feel like talking with any of the people that were so animatedly engaged in conversation with one another. To Simon, all he heard was a loud jumble of voices swirling together in a blending mix that ended in cacophony.

“Hey. Hey!” Jeremy laughed, snapping his fingers in front of Simon’s face. “Is that sandwich heaven or something? You’ve literally done nothing but eat your sandwich this entire time!”

Simon goofily grinned, wiping his sandwich crumbs off of the corner of his mouth. He paused, gulping down the remaining bites of the grain in his mouth before responding to the other boy’s joke. “I just don’t feel like talking. Is that cool with you?” 

It came out a bit harsher than intended. Noticing the hurt expression on Jeremy’s face, Simon awkwardly laughed to cover up his unexplained outburst at the younger boy. Thankfully, Jeremy accepted the unspoken apology and resumed back to normal. Unlike Simon’s other friends (who were, admittedly, mostly female), Jeremy was always good at being able to not take things so seriously. Simon was grateful for the younger boy’s ability to so easily forgive, though he wasn’t sure that this was always a good thing. Now that he thought about it, Simon wondered if he was often forgiven easily because of the other boy’s previously harbored, romantic feelings for him. Not that it mattered or anything.

“Simon!” This time, it was Lillette who was snapping her best friend out of his daydreaming state of mind. Her baby pink nails flashed in front of his brown eyes, the nail polish slowly chipping off from the night before. “Can I talk to you for a sec’?” 

Lillette’s voice was urgent but not unkind. She promptly whisked Simon up from seat by his arm, dragging him into the school. Their lunch group paused their conversations with each other to witness the unfolding scene. Though, they quickly became disinterested upon seeing the pair disappear around the corner of the school hallway. Around the corner, Simon was thrust into the girl’s bathroom with an excited Lillette. There was no one in the bathroom besides a small freshman girl, who Lillette nodded at, insinuating that the girl should leave. The little girl was intimidated by the older girl’s fierce gaze and ran out the door without a single word spoken to the pair. Simon was in awe.

He began to run through a list of reasons that pertained to his mere current standing in the female bathroom. “I—I can’t be in here. This is a bathroom that strictly says it is for the female gender. The female gender, Lilette. Do I look like a girl to you?”

“Yes,” Lillette rolled her eyes, used to Simon’s obvious tactics to divert from whatever she wanted to talk about, “you look like a girl.” Simon began to protest, but his best friend swiftly cut him off. “Simon,” she started, raising her eyebrows, “you do realize that you were staring at a certain ‘someone’ for quite a long time, right?”

Her best friend blushed. It was clear who ‘someone’ was, but even so, Simon was sure that he hadn’t laid a single eye on Jeremy after his wordless apology. Sure, he had been deeply lost in thought ABOUT Jeremy (platonically, of course)—that didn’t mean he was looking AT Jeremy.

“I don’t recall looking at ‘someone’,” replied Simon. It was the truth, to some extent. The truth was that Simon was so lost in thought that he didn’t remember looking at anyone, though it was also true that he could’ve been looking at ‘someone’ subconsciously. 

Lillette scoffed. She wasn’t sure if Simon was fully lying or partially lying, but she knew some part of him was lying. “Simon, please. We’ve been friends for how many years now, and you expect me to believe that you weren’t staring at him? C’mon, I know you. I’m not judging you.”

“What? Why would I be staring at him?” The pale boy was completely flabbergasted, still not entirely sure of his best friend’s point.

Lillette squirmed, clearly realizing that now was the wrong time to start driving down the road that they were slowly pulling into. However, this was the farthest she had ever gotten with her best friend regarding his sexuality, and she wasn’t going to stop now. Especially since she was leaving soon.

Seeing her discomfort, Simon began to see what she was hinting at.

“I’m not gay,” said her best friend. She could tell that he was trying to stay calm and not lash out at her, like he had done the last time she had questioned his sexuality.

“Simon, all I’m saying is that you guys kissed and now...,” the actress trailed off.

“We were love interests in a play and now we’re friends. Did you forget that I’m an actor? Plus, I dated someone in the play. SHE was a girl, in case you forgot.”

“You dated her?” Lillette was growing increasingly upset with Simon’s lack of honesty to both himself and herself. “I would hardly call your hand holding and failed attempt at trying to force yourself to have sex with a girl ‘dating’, Simon.”

The brown-haired boy was on the verge of either crying or screaming—or maybe both. “Maybe I just haven’t found the right person yet, Lillette. Sorry that I’m not you and haven’t found MY Robbie. Just because it didn’t work out with ONE girl, that doesn’t mean I’m gay. I have nothing against homosexuals, but I am not one of THEM.” As he went on with his tirade, it seemed more and more like Simon was trying to convince himself rather than his best friend.

Lillette sighed, exasperated. “You’re right,” she relented, “but I’m also right. Maybe it didn’t work out with Annabelle but you and I both know it’s not because she wasn’t the one. It’s because SHE wasn’t a HE.”

Truth be told, Lillette didn’t know what to feel at that moment. For one, she felt pity for Simon, pity for the fact that he couldn’t admit who he was to even himself, and pity for the fact that he had grown up in an environment that was hostile toward the LGBTQIA+ community. Secondly, she felt angry at herself for throwing this all out on the table right before she left, with the chance that she might leave with Simon refusing to talk to her. Lastly, though, she felt hope, for some crazy, inexplicable reason.

Simon sank against the wall, his heart fluttering out when he came to a sudden realization. His fingers grazed the hard cream tile on the floor, scooping the dust under his neat fingernails.

“What if they hate me?” he whispered softly. 

Across the bathroom, Lillette smiled encouragingly and joined him on the bathroom floor. “Who?” she asked carefully, proceeding with caution. In her mind, she knew the answer to her question, but wanted to hear it come from Simon himself.

“My parents.”

“Oh, Simon,” breathed his best friend, wrapping her arm around his small frame. “Your parents are your parents. They love you.”

Tears began to trickle down the actor’s cheeks while he recounted his parents arguing in the morning to Lillette. She listened quietly, silently wishing that she could knock some sense into Simon’s asshole of a father. During the story, she felt his pain and his loss like it were her own feelings, living inside her very soul. Every part that broke him also broke her. Each part that tore him to shreds, it tore her to shreds. His hardship was her hardship. Lillette felt Simon’s struggles and her heart ached for her friend, who was desperately trapped in a lifetime spent full of lies. She pulled him tighter to her chest, never wanting to let him go. He cried into her, letting his tears take away all the years of the false persona he had adopted in order to please his religious father, letting his tears wash away the person who he had never really identified with as a reflection of his true self.

“I love you,” Lillette kept whispering into Simon’s hair, holding him in her arms until she noticed that lunch was almost over. 

It felt like they had spent an eternity in the girl’s bathroom, and they came out like they really had spent forever in there. Before leaving the bathroom to return to their lunch group, Simon washed his eyes and his face, feeling reborn into the person who he really was. His best friend was proud, walking out with him to rush back to their friends. Though the change in him was not noticeable, Lilette felt like she could visibly see a changed boy in front of her. He was still the same old Simon though, challenging her to see who could reach the lunch table first. Undoubtedly, she won the challenge, but Simon didn’t let the loss affect him too harshly. In fact, he seemed giddier than usual—this was something everybody could attest to.

“You okay?” asked Jeremy to Simon. “You were in there a long time.” He was genuinely concerned for Simon but he was careful to not cross the line from platonic to borderline romantic.

Simon nodded, looking Jeremy in the eyes for the first time since the morning. “Yeah, I’ll fill you in after the drama meeting.” The older boy gave a suggestive smile to Jeremy. He was careful not to get his hopes up about what this “fill in” session was going to be about. Jeremy smiled to himself and, once again, he and Simon went their separate ways when the fifth period bell rang.

Before the mandatory drama meeting in the auditorium, Lou called Simon to his office. Simon rapped the door of Lou’s office twice, receiving no answer. Puzzled, he tried again. For the third time, he heard no response. He had the eery feeling of something creeping up behind him, but brushed it off, a bad mistake on his part.

“Boo!” yelled Lou, tapping Simon on the shoulder. He startled him, leaving him looking like a wild cat in the jungle. Simon rolled his eyes. “Sorry to scare you like that,” chuckled Lou, “but come on in. Sit down, please.”

Lou sat at his desk, gesturing to the open chair in front of it. “Sorry for being MIA when you came in here. I was in a last minute meeting,” explained the former play director (which was still unbeknownst to the Simon and the rest of the cast).

“It’s fine,” said Simon, making himself comfortable on the chair. “Not to be rude, but why’d you call me in here? If my mom called or something, it’s fine, really. We just got into a bit of an argument but it’ll all be resolved soon—.”

Lou held his finger up to stop Simon. “Actually, Simon. It IS about your mom. And your sister. But it’s not about what you think it’s about. Erm, actually,” he paused to clear his throat, “your mom asked if she and your sister could stay with my family for a bit. Just until she gets back on her feet. I agreed, after she told me some of the nasty things your father said. To my understanding, you know the general idea of your father’s beliefs, so I won’t say it all over again.”

Simon shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Anyways, she wanted me to tell you. Simon, I called you in here to invite you to come over and stay with her. I promise you, I know it’s weird with me being your teacher and all, but I’m just trying to do a decent thing here.”

There was a couple of moments of silence following the bombshell in Lou’s office. Then Simon responded. “I’ll be there.”

Lou clasped his hands together in a frenzy of ecstatic joy. “Great! Thanks, Simon. It’ll mean a lot to your mother. I’ll see you at the drama meeting.” With this, their small discussion was concluded, leaving Simon to, once again, go his separate way.

After, the rest of the day was spent anticipating the after school drama meeting that was being held by Lou. For Jeremy, he was not only anticipating the bad news that Lou had to share with the drama department, but also the “fill in” session with Simon. Understandably, he hoped that his talk with Simon would overpower the bad news that Lou had to give. He pondered this while walking to the theatre by himself. When he got there, he realized that he was the last one to arrive, a close second to Robbie and Lillette, who both had been presumably hooking up every chance that they got. They looked disheveled, to say the least. Jeremy snickered at the two, taking a seat next to Simon, who smiled at him. For him, this was a first; Jeremy had always been the one to initiate interactions between himself and Simon.

“Right, well, seeing as everyone’s here,” yelled Lou with a pointed look at Jeremy, “I have some really bad news for anyone here who is a freshman, sophomore, or junior. The news is still bad if you’re a senior, but unfortunately, it’s not looking so great for the underclassmen.”

In the front row, Sasha was feeling hormonal and moody. “Just fucking spill the beans,” she exclaimed monotonously. Lou gave her a stern look. “Sorry,” apologized Sasha, “just please tell us what the bad news is.”

The theatre director shoved his glasses up on the tallest bridge of his nose. It seemed unnecessary but then again, he was just trying to think of a way to soften the inevitable blow. 

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. There’s no funds for the drama department. The theatre program’s been shut down.”

All at once, chaos broke in the auditorium. Each voice struggled to maintain composure while also struggling to make their point known very, very clearly. Now, Sasha and the other students were beyond the point of apologizing for cursing. They began to throw f-bombs left and right, screaming at how unfair it was. Right then and there, they all agreed that they would’ve rather done a censored version of the play if it had meant they would’ve kept the theatre program. 

Most everyone in the auditorium was furious at Lou and the school district, except for Simon. He stood up on his cushioned chair, balancing carefully on it. Then, using the trick that Lilette had taught him in middle school, he put his fingers between his lips and whistled. A hush flew through the auditorium full of angry teenagers, all of them turning their attention to Simon.

“You guys. We agreed to do the uncensored version of the play. It was our choice. Lou said we could do either version of the play and we all agreed that we would do the original version. No one forced us. WE decided. And so what if they canceled theatre? They can’t cancel it forever.”

He chuckled at the thought of the school board banning theatre, which was nearly impossible. 

“Plus, isn’t the whole point of the play that we SHOULDN’T be forced to censor our lives? What we did wasn’t bad or punishable by any means—it was only wrong TO THEM because we chose to be uncensored in a society where everyone wants us to be censored, full time.”

Bowing, Simon leapt down from his chair, graciously. Lillette started to clap, wiping faux tears from her eyes. This caused the rest of the group to laugh, lightening up the stricken tension in the room. Even Sasha smiled.

“You know,” relented the pregnant teenager, “I’m still pissed, but Simon’s right. There’s nothing we could’ve really done. He’s right. The world’s just not ready to see life for what it really it is.” 

Simon gave her a sincere look of gratitude before returning the spotlight back to himself for a moment. He anxiously stood up on the chair again.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Simon said nervously. “I was going to do this in private, because I felt like I had to wait for the ‘perfect time’. But here, talking with you all, I realized that there is no truly ‘perfect time’. The closest thing that can come to a perfect time is choosing to be uncensored even when it’s scary. I’ve been censored my whole life. I think I’m going to start living life as myself, Simon. Fully uncensored. Thank you, Lilette.”

The older boy turned to look at Lilette gratefully, signaling silently his imminent plan. Mutely squealing, Lilette swung her hands over mouth, slapping Robbie’s disinterested arm and pointing to Simon. She got Robbie’s attention in no time, convincing him to turn to the scene at hand. The scene in front of him was laid bare in front of the whole cast and crew, time seemingly stopping to make the moment even more enriched and real.

Again, Simon hopped down from the chair. His breathing became shallow and uneven, almost like it was uncertain of his present plan. His chest flew like a dozen butterflies were caged in his lungs. However, he didn’t let this deter him, focusing in on himself and what he had set out to do. Smoothly, he forced the butterflies back down his throat, unwilling to let them make him too nervous to take one more step forward. It was now or never.

Delicately, Simon moved closer to the boy who had played his love interest in Spring Awakening. The other boy was still sitting in his chair, completely lovestruck. If Simon was doing what he thought he was doing, the younger boy was certainly in for a sweet surprise. For Jeremy, this was a spectacular change in their reversal of roles.

“Hi,” Jeremy cracked, like he was the inexperienced one and not Simon. 

“Hi,” Simon said sweetly. “I never got to thank you for helping me with the flowers.” 

The paler boy grabbed the other boy’s hands, holding them tight to his own. Simon pulled Jeremy up to his feet, each boy stumbling into the other while they established a firm connection to the ground. They were about the same height, with only about half an inch’s difference between them. Their faces brushed against each other in eager anticipation. Before completely locking in and devouring each other whole, the two boys met each other’s eyes intensely, in what seemed to be an infinite moment in time. Their chocolate eyes gazed into each other, almost as if daring the other to act first. In a matter of a few seconds, the older boy grabbed the younger boy’s floppy hair and drove his lips into the other boy. It was a bold move for the inexperienced boy to dive into the experienced boy’s mouth headfirst, especially considering the fact that they had never once had an equally reciprocated kiss besides the stage kiss. They melted into the kiss, Simon’s butterflies flying out of his throat and into Jeremy’s. The younger boy grappled Simon’s waist, seemingly wanting to never let go. He moved his fingertips over the curve of the older boy’s back, completely entranced by the way his lips moved against his. Neither boy wanted to move away from each other. They were exploring each other, trying to memorize their lips like a map.

When Simon finally pulled away for a breath of air, he was quick to pepper kisses on the younger boy’s face. Now, they were completely eager to memorize each other’s bodies, forgetting their audience. Unsurprisingly, it was Lillette who broke the silence from the rest of the stunned cast.

“Finally got your shit together!” she congratulated. The remaining cast, following her lead, began to whoop and holler cheers of congratulations to the infatuated boys.

Blushing madly, the teenagers slowly detached their lips from each other. They had finally pulled away, but their hands were still linked together. For the rest of the hour following the bold move, the cast talked amongst themselves excitedly (and sadly) about the new changes that were coming to their lives. Lou had lively discussions with many members of the student cast, each one different from the next; though, he was sure to tell each student to make sure to pursue their dream, no matter how many obstacles they had to face in order to achieve that dream. Each student was grateful for the advice and Lou’s wish for their succeeding in life. Though he was no longer their play director he told them, he was always someone they could confide in to.

When one curtain closes, another one opens.

**Author's Note:**

> if you feel comfortable doing so, i would appreciate any kudos/constructive comments! <3 xx
> 
> (please be nice lol)


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